


Purple Bra

by KanedaX



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble, Ficlet, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-31
Updated: 2009-07-31
Packaged: 2018-10-26 15:22:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10789353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KanedaX/pseuds/KanedaX
Summary: Ginny just can’t get enough of that purple braWritten for the Imagination Inspiration Drabble DriveInspiration...Bit of Skirt by LizardSpots





	Purple Bra

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

It was hot.  Skin-blistering, clothes-soakingly hot.  It had been that way for so long this August that Ginny Weasley had given in last week, chopping her red hair as short as she was willing to take it without looking like a boy.  Her breasts were already small enough, thank you very much, she didn't need to be any less feminine.  
  
It was hot in the flat that she shared with Hermione Granger.  Even the Glacio spell that was floating in the middle of the sitting room was fighting a losing battle against the heat.  They had tried going outside earlier, but to no avail.  It was an oven in here, but it was a blast furnace outside.  Ginny's shoulders were burnt red from just ten minutes in the sun.  
  
So here they sat, sweating in the shade of their flat.  Still hot.  September seemed centuries away.  
  
But Ginny didn't mind.  
  
She simply couldn't get enough of Hermione Granger's purple bra.  
  
Ginny hadn't told Hermione that she was bisexual yet.  She was having a hard time giving up the brief glimpses of female sexuality that came from living with another woman.  Hermione walking around in the winter in a t-shirt with nothing underneath, nipples hard against thing fabric.  Or seeing the blurry outline of a naked Hermione in the shower while Ginny brushed her teeth.  If she told Hermione that she liked women, fantasized about women, wished that she could fuck some of them into the next time zone, then Hermione would lock up.  Fast.  
  
And so Ginny was left with the view.  Brown, slightly sweaty hair that Ginny was astonished could still let loose in the heat.  Bare legs curled up beneath her pleated skirt, remnants of her summer work outfit.  Lips sucking on the tip of her quill as she took notes on her latest literary adventure.  
  
And the bra.  
  
Oh, the bra.  
  
So simple in its plain cottonness, yet so erotic in its purpleness.  Ginny wished she could have the breasts beneath that bra, both on her own body (she envied Hermione, who was noticeably bigger than Ginny's A-cups), and in her own hands.  In her mouth.  
  
Ginny's mind wandered away from the crossword that was sitting in her lap.  She pictured kissing Hermione deeply, tongues entwined.  Imagined Hermione's hands all over her body, grasping her green top, yearning to find a bra clasp that wasn't there.  Hands slipping up Ginny's skirt, yearning to find a pair of knickers that weren't there, either.  
  
Oh, the things she wanted to do to Hermione right now. The fantasies from lonely nights returning anew.  Fingers between legs, feeling curled hair and swollen lips.  Heads beneath skirts, licking and sucking and probing.  
  
But the bra would stay on, of course.  That magical bra.  
  
_You need to get laid,_ Ginny thought.  She had been masturbating almost every night since Harry left for work, thinking of him and Hermione and Luna and Hermione and...  
  
On the pretense of scratching an itch, Ginny's hand slipped up to her chest.  She tried to contain a gasp as she pinched the tiny nub, rock hard beneath thin fabric.  Her eyes were locked onto Hermione's chest.  How could she not see what Ginny was doing?  
  
_If she knew, would you stop?_  
  
The excitement of being caught taking over, Ginny’s hand slipped up, gripping the edge of her top and pulling it down, baring her tiny breasts to the unknowing girl. Caressed them.  Was she actually masturbating in front of Hermione?  
  
Hermione looked up.  Ginny's heart stopped, releasing her shirt.  
  
"I, um, I'm hot," she said (true in more than one sense).  She grabbed her top and billowed it in and out, feigning cooling herself down.  
  
"Mm," Hermione said with a nod.  "It is warm, isn't it?"  
  
"Yeah," Ginny said, blushing furiously.  
  
"You can sit in your bra, you know," said Hermione.  "I don't mind."  
  
"I'm not wearing one," said Ginny, beet red.  
  
"I thought I saw something more than I’m used to seeing," said Hermione with a smile.  
  
"Sorry," said Ginny quietly.  
  
"I don't mind," Hermione repeated.  "They’re just like I imagined."  
  
Ginny blinked.  
  
"You...  You..."  
  
"You wanted me to see them, right?"  Hermione asked devilishly, standing up and walking to Ginny.

“More than anything. 

“Want to see mine?” Hermione asked,  reaching behind her back.  
  
"No," said Ginny with a grin, standing up and putting her hands on Hermione's breasts, Hermione's _bra_ , for the first time.  Ginny felt Hermione’s hard nipples beneath.  
  
"Leave it on.”


End file.
